Thirty Days and Counting
by MusicalLuna1
Summary: Harry is sick and tired of Ron pining over Hermione and not doing anything about it. So he takes matters into his own hands and gives Ron two options...
1. Day 31 And So It Begins

Fweee! XD This is the prologue to a new fic I've started writing... Muahahahahaha! Please don't be positively horrified if I don't update regularly, but I'm going to try. Really I am. And I'll finish it. I promise. (Which means even if this gets painful I'll finish it. ) Anyway. XD

This is going to wind up being a Ron/Hermione fic (if you can't tell from the description :)) and...umm... it'll be fluffy. Everything I write is extremely fluffy. But I think this'll be a pretty good story actually. Better than _Into Their Own Hands_. :O lol... Ummm...**Harry** might be a wee bit out of character...but Ron and Hermione should be all right. I always have trouble with Harry... Ah well. By the way, in the end, this fic should be approximately 23-27 chapters long. One-ish for every day in the fic... You'll understand better once you read it. Which I should let you do. So on with the disclaimer and the story!

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As with all Harry Potter fics, the characters and junk don't belong to me, but the plot does :D Wait, _this_ plot; I should clarify that just in case for any sue-happy lawyers out there... :P

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Ron sighed, already bored five minutes into his and Harry's Divination homework. They'd once again been assigned to predict their futures for the next month and it was getting harder and harder to come up with horrible things that could happen to him. His thoughts began to wander, drifting briefly over Quidditch practices, the enormous amount of Transfiguration and Potions homework he'd received, and the ball Dumbledore had planned for the end of the year, before finally coming to rest on Hermione. Who happened to be conveniently sitting not ten feet away. Who also happened to have her nose conveniently buried in a book. Who also happened to be the one thing that Ron could gaze at, enthralled, for hours.

"Ron!"

He snapped out of his reverie abruptly, looking around in a dazed sort of way. "Huh? What?"

Harry was giving him a very suspicious look and his voice matched it when he spoke. "What are you daydreaming about now Ron?"

Ron stared at him, swallowing nervously. "I-er-"

Harry's eyes narrowed and he said accusingly, "You've been thinking about her again haven't you?"

Ron's ears immediately turned red and he stammered, "Wh-what? No! I'm not thinking about any girl!" Inside a little voice was screaming, '_How the hell does he know! Is he talking about who I think he is! Oh Merlin…_'

"You're a terrible liar Ron. You've been thinking about Hermione again haven't you?" he asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Ron's face began to color as well and his mouth opened and closed wordlessly, stunned. Inside he was panicking. '_He knows! How the hell did he find out! I haven't been _that_ obvious, have I! Bloody hell… Oh bloody _hell The look Harry was giving him wasn't very comforting either. What in the world was he up to?

"Bloody hell, Ron. Just ask her already," Harry berated him.

"Ask her what?" Ron asked bewilderedly, though he had a creeping idea as to what he meant and he didn't like it one bit.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't be a prat. You know bloody well what I'm talking about. Ask her out."

At these words, Ron blanched. "A-ask…ask… _Hermione_…out!" he hissed, keeping his voice low enough that he could be sure Hermione, who hadn't looked up from her book, wouldn't hear. "Are you mad!"

Harry gave him a look. "Don't be ridiculous Ron. You've wanted to for ages now."

"I-yeah-but-" he spluttered, glancing back and forth from Hermione frantically, afraid she would look up any minute now and shoot him a look of disgust before stomping off up the stairs to the girl's dormitory to never speak to him again so long as he lived.

Harry growled slightly and said fiercely, "Fine then Ron. I'm going to give you a reason to ask her."

Ron paused in the middle of one of the furtive glances and turned his head slowly to stare at Harry. His tone was beginning to frighten him. "Er…what do you mean?"

"Ron, either you're going to ask Hermione out by the next Hogsmeade weekend, meaning thirty days not including today, or I'm going to ask her for you. In front of everyone. Very loudly, and very dramatically. As embarrassingly to you as humanly possible. Understand?" Harry said, his tone very serious.

Ron gaped at him, his face quite pale. "Y-you wouldn't, Harry…" he muttered, his voice betraying the tiny bit of mercy he was praying for.

Harry sighed. "Look Ron. I don't want to do this to you, honest. But you're driving me absolutely nutters. Every time we start doing something, you get distracted and wind up gawping at her. You talk about her incessantly and even though it's only to say how furious she makes you, it's obvious that's not the real reason. So either you're going to do yourself the favor, or I am. Whichever you find more pleasant, mate. Now I'm going to bed. Remember, _thirty days_."

And with those cryptic words, Harry stood and shuffled out of the common room and up to their dormitory. Ron stared after him, shocked, horrified, and unsure of whether he should hate Harry for the rest of his life, or be overwhelmingly glad he was his best friend. He then glanced over at Hermione, who seemed to be entirely oblivious to the earth shattering event that had just taken place, and decided that if Hermione rejected him, Harry was going to die. And an excruciatingly slow and painful death at that.

That night, Ron didn't sleep. He went to bed briefly after the encounter with Harry, completely ignoring Hermione and not even saying 'good night' out of sheer terror. He spent the night restlessly thrashing about in his bed, worrying and debating over how he would ever gather up the courage to ask Hermione on a date. By morning, he was exhausted, frustrated, and terrified at the very thought of seeing Hermione. Merlin, he was going to murder Harry if this didn't work out.

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	2. Day 30 A Nightmare and a Secret

Okay then. :D I know you all probably want to murder me, or simply just abandoned me months ago, and I completely understand if that's what happened. I thank you ever so much if you actually stuck around, or if you just happened to have the link lying around and gave it one last shot.

I want to sincerely apologize for the ENORMOUS wait, I predicted this would happen, and I am terribly sorry for making you wait so horribly long if you even waited. I hope it winds up being worth it. However, I would also like to say that I currently have an enormous amount of free time and what with the 6th book coming out and having gotten this first chapter out, I'm feeling insanely motivated, so I'm almost positive you can expect another new chapter in two weeks. So, unless some massive disaster occurs, check back often! And again, I'm soooo sorry about the horrible wait!

I'll say this: I've been writing this for a week straight now, and it's the longest chapter I've ever written for anything I think. I _really, really _hope you enjoy it. I would also like to plead with you to review if only to tell me a certian part of the story sucked, or a certain part was rough, or I spelled wrong. Please, please, please review to help me make this the best story I can! I want it to be a worthwhile read. Thank you sooooooo much in advance!

Enjoy!

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Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be. :D

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The next morning Ron's alarm went off just ten minutes after he had finally fallen into a restless sleep. Without fully waking, he shut off his alarm and groggily climbed out of bed, his body running completely on automatic. He gathered up clean clothes for the day, pulling a pair of boxers from underneath his bed, digging up one of his robes from the bottom of his trunk, and prying two socks from a compartment in his trunk, before staggering off to the bathroom, his eyes still mostly shut. He pulled off his pajamas and climbed into the shower, still on auto pilot. It wasn't until halfway through his shower when the hot water was finally beginning to wake him up that he recalled _why _he was so tired. His eyes shot open and he lost his balance, falling backwards and landing hard in the basin of the tub, his head thunking loudly against the porcelain wall. He cursed, rubbing the aching spot on the back of his skull and blinking back the flashing white spots in his eyes. 

"Hey! What are you doing in there, Weasley? Are you all right?" Dean shouted through the door.

But Ron wasn't paying much attention to his yelling. Instead, he was staring at the drain in the bathtub wondering how the hell he was going to manage to get up the courage to talk to Hermione and act normal, let alone ask her out. Damn Harry and his bloody interfering. On the other hand, there was no way he could ever face the school _or _Hermione if Harry was the one who had to ask her out... _Bloody hell_.

"Ron? Hey--Ron answer me! Are you all right!" Dean shouted.

"Hey, what's going on? Is something wrong? came Neville's voice.

"Yeah, what's with the yelling?" Seamus demanded.

"I think Ron's gone and killed himself," Dean replied, "Didn't you hear that thud? Damnit, Ron! Say something!" He banged on the door a few times, growling in irritation. Still, Ron ignored them.

"Fine. If he wants it that way--" Dean grabbed his wand from his bedside table and growled,

"Alohomora!" The door immediately banged open and the three roommates streamed into the bathroom.

Ron had finally gotten to his feet and he stared at the three other boys in shock. "DO YOU MIND?" he roared.

They immediately backed out the way they had come, Seamus muttering under his breath, "Jeez...tou-chy..."

"Oh, shut up," Ron growled, slamming the door in their faces.

"Jeez, who spit in his porridge?" Seamus muttered.

"Well, actually, no one--we haven't had breakfast yet," Neville piped up helpfully. Seamus rolled his eyes at him and pushed him back across the room.

"Oh, shut up, Longbottom."

* * *

In the bathroom, Ron tied a towel around his waist before leaning against the counter and staring grouchily at his reflection. Bloody nosy roommates. Bloody _Harry_. 

But he could deal with this, right? He _was _in Gryffindor, after all. Gryffindor courage and all of that.

Oh, who was he kidding?

He growled, letting his head fall against the mirror. He was going to humiliate himself whether he wanted to or not. Why did this sort of thing always have to happen to _him?_

After moping around in the bathroom for another ten minutes, dawdling around for another five getting dressed, and then whiling away another seven carefully shaving the tiny patch of orange fuzz on his chin, and then poking around "cleaning up"--there was finally a firm banging on the door and Harry's voice called out to him.

"Ron? Are you all right in there? Dean said you made an awful racket when you were showering. What are you doing in there? Breakfast is over, we've got to get to class, mate!"

Ron shot a slightly triumphant grin at the mirror and gestured, 'YES!' to his reflection. Thirty awkward minutes less spent struggling to maintain his composure!

"Ron? Seriously, mate, you're starting to worry me--"

Ron threw open the door and glanced down at Harry, sure to take advantage of his full height of 6'6" as he replied stiffly, "I'm fine. Let's get to class."

Harry followed after him as he grabbed his book bag and then strode out the door. Ron's strides were equal to two of Harry's and at the rate he was moving, Harry had to practically jog to keep up. He frowned, swallowing nervously and said tentatively, "Er, Ron, you're...not angry are you?"

Ron glanced back and down at him and seeing the genuinely concerned look on his friend's face, he sighed. "No... I'm not mad..." he muttered. _'Merlin, I'm such a marshmallow...'_

Harry looked immensely relieved, "Oh good...I was worried you might be upset about...you know, last night..."

Ron finally slowed his pace, allowing Harry to keep up and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't say I wasn't still upset."

Harry cringed slightly. "I had to. You know that."

"Like hell you did! You could have done _anything _else! Deception, Love-Potions, a broom closet, _anything!_ Honestly Harry. You _know _how hard it is for me to be around her NORMALLY," he said pointedly as they climbed out of the portrait hole.

Harry conceded slightly with a nod of his head, "But I'm not good with that sort of thing. Trickery and trapping are more Fred and George's forte. Besides, this gets the job done much more easily on my part." He grinned slightly at Ron.

Ron scowled at him.

"Sorry, mate. It's better me than someone else though, right?" he said, hopefully. Ron merely grumbled in response. "Oh--Hermione at 10:00," he whispered. Ron's eyes immediately bugged out and he stepped on the hem of his robes and staggered forward, nearly landing head first on the floor. Hermione, however, managed to press both hands against his shoulders and steadied him.

"Ron, honestly! You should be more careful. You're going to hurt yourself," she cried, her hands lingering as he tried to straighten up, his head jerking down once more as a result of his robes still being caught underfoot. By the time he managed to stand up straight he was blushing furiously and _still _hadn't said a word to Hermione.

From just down the hall a mocking drawl drifted into the scene, and Ron's face only managed to darken two further shades. "Nice one, Weasel. Those monstrous feet of yours cause so much trouble, don't they? No wonder your robes are so tattered."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy," Harry said off-handedly, gently guiding both of his friends into the Potions classroom with firm hands on their backs.

"Too bad, the little Potty has lost all his fight since Black died _so _tragically," Draco said, gesturing dramatically with the back of his hand tossed delicately against his forehead in a signal of distress.

Ron could feel Harry's barely concealed tension increase tenfold and he started to turn around, his mouth already open to retort, but Harry jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.

"Ouch! Hey, Harry, what's the deal?" he whispered.

"Don't bother, Ron, he'll get what's coming to him. It's not worth it now," Harry said quietly.

Ron frowned, he didn't like it, but he did as Harry said and turned around, ignoring the git. In the process, his eyes settled on Hermione who smiled and said, "Good morning Ron. Where were you this morning? Harry and I were worried."

The color promptly drained out of Ron's face and he choked, suddenly unable to breathe. Harry caught a glimpse of his face and pounded him on the back sharply, twice, hissing, "Get a hold of yourself, mate!"

Ron sucked in a breath, his eyes still wide and squeaked out, "I woke up late. Sorry for worrying you."

"Are you sure you're all right Ron? You're acting rather funny..." Hermione said, her face a mixture of suspicion and concern.

He nodded vigorously and for once, he was grateful when Snape butted in. "If you'll all _shut up_, we can begin today's lesson." His eyes snapped over to Harry for a moment before he continued. "Now. Your N.E.W.T.s are swiftly approaching and despite having weeded out _most _of the complete morons from this class, there still remain a select few who need to get it through their infinitesimal little skulls that these exams are NOT to be taken lightly. Doing your work absolutely flawlessly the next few weeks will be imperative to your chances of passing the N.E.W.T.s at all. So I suggest you _pay attention_." He slammed a hand down on the desk in front of him, narrowing his eyes, making the boy in it jump. "Do I make myself clear?"

The entire class silently nodded and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of Hermione's quill across her parchment as she nodded to it, looking determined to do absolutely everything Snape demanded.

"Good." Snape slowly righted himself, running a hand over his greasy hair to replace a lock that had fallen out of place. "Get out a piece of parchment and copy this down, _word for word_. And make sure you can _read it_, Mr. Weasley," he sneered.

Ron's ears colored and he grit his teeth as he pulled a slightly crumpled sheet of parchment from his book bag and began setting up his inkwell and his quill with a new nib, trying to remain calm. He had been battling the urge to beat the snot out of Snape from the day they set foot on school grounds and Snape had made a remark, rather loudly, about how it would be a miracle if he lasted two days in the N.E.W.T.s preparation potions classes. Bloody git.

* * *

Later in the period after class had finished silently copying down the ingredients and notes, Snape had ordered them to begin, and so they were all working diligently to create the Disillusionment potion. The dungeons had never been quieter during a class and it was seriously beginning to give Ron the creeps, so he nudged Harry with his elbow as he stirred and whispered, "It's quiet." 

Harry quickly cottoned on and grinned, muttering, "_Too _quiet."

Hermione glanced up, blushing, and hissed, "Shhhh! I'm trying to concentrate!"

Ron and Harry had been using those two phrases to tease Hermione since earlier that year when they had come into the common room and unlike most evenings, found it lacking Hermione pacing by one of the tables, verbally reviewing her notes to make them better stick. She had been lying fast asleep, sprawled across her Transfiguration things, exhausted from late night study fests. They had roused her and teased the drowsy bookworm about encountering the quiet before she stumbled up the stairs, blushing and telling them both to shut their mouths. Ron would never admit it, but he thought it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

Both Ron and Harry sniggered quietly, but turned back to their potions. Around them, with the ice finally broken, whispered conversations had begun and the room had finally dissolved out of its deafening silence. Meanwhile, Harry scribbled something on his notes and pushed them discreetly over for Ron to see. Ron carefully added a perfect pinch of powdered puffeskein to his potion before leaning over to read Harry's note. It read:

_Now would be a good time, Weasley_.

Ron stared at the note, puzzled for a moment before suddenly remembering and smacking a hand to his forehead. Harry let out a snort of laughter before clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. Unfortunately, Hermione and a few of the other students around them were already staring.

"What are you two doing!" Hermione hissed.

Harry held up one hand in apology, the other still covering his mouth, and Ron simply flushed and sat down quickly, trying to sink into his seat and absorb himself in his potion. He scribbled two words below Harry's.

_No way_.

Harry rolled his eyes at him in exasperation.

_Just remember--30 days_.

Ron grimaced as he read the note. Distracted, he put the next ingredient in his potion without checking it first. He almost immediately regretted his folly. The potion rapidly turned a sickly puke green color and began bubbling violently over the rim. Ron cursed loudly as the potion bubbled over onto his hand and he recoiled, grimacing in pain, quickly trying to wipe his hand with one of his gloves. Snape pushed him aside, his robes swishing angrily as he snarled, "Honestly, Weasley, can't you even follow simple instructions like 'wait two minutes' by this point in your education! Get out of the way, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his cauldron, barely managing to pull it out of Snape's way before the potions master had murmured a spell and thick lilac colored foam had oozed from the tip to coat Ron's cauldron and every surface his concoction had touched. Ron was too busy worrying about his hand, which felt as though it were on fire, to even react to Snape's insults or the complete destruction of his potion.

"Now, _get out _Mr. Weasley," Snape's icy gaze settled on Ron, his voice laced with venom. Ron simply stared, still in too much shock to comprehend what was going on. "I said get out, _now!_" Snape snarled and raised his wand and Ron scrambled to his feet, bolting out the door. It slammed shut behind him, shaking the stones of the corridor floor, and Ron cursed softly, leaning against the wall. "Bloody great mess you've caused _now_, Weasley," he muttered. His hand suddenly gave a strong twinge of pain and he trudged off towards the Hospital Wing.

* * *

Just a few moments after the bell for the break period had rung, Hermione and Harry appeared at the doors of the Hospital Wing, slightly out of breath. "Ron, are you all right?" Hermione gasped. 

"I'm fine," he replied, staring at them, "How did you know I was here?"

"Well, you hurt yourself, didn't you?" Hermione said, as though it were obvious. Ron made a face at her. "How is your hand?"

"It feels loads better now."

"Oh good."

"How many points got deducted?" he asked anxiously.

Harry cringed, "Twenty-five..."

Ron grimaced and mumbled something profane that Harry and Hermione didn't quite catch. An awkward silence followed as Ron picked uneasily at the bed sheet and Hermione stared down at the books in her arms. Finally, Harry coughed loudly, causing both of them to start and blush.

"I'm going to, er, go visit Professor McGonagall. I'll see you in a bit, all right?" He then proceeded to take off before either of them could object.

Ron frowned after him, muttering, "'Go visit Professor McGonagall'? What's up with him?"

"Maybe he's just realized how important the N.E.W.T.s really are and he's going to get help," Hermione replied.

Ron snorted derisively, "Oh, yeah."

"Well honestly Ron, just because _you _don't ever think about your schoolwork doesn't mean no one _else _does," she said, putting her fists on her hips.

"But this is Harry, Hermione. I spent the last six years slacking off with him. What makes you think he's suddenly going to become all 'studious' now?"

She sniffed irritably and said, "Oh, just wishful thinking, I suppose. Are you allowed to leave yet?"

"Well, I figure it's all right."

"Good, come on, we're going to be late for Transfiguration."

"Er--Hermione--" In a sudden and apparently fleeting burst of courage, Ron grabbed Hermione's arm, only to feel his lungs begin to stiffen and his heart to beat painfully against his ribs.

"What is it Ron?" She frowned. "Are you all right? Ron!"

"I--er--yeah--I was just--I was just wondering, you know, er..." he swallowed, trying not to panic.

'_Come on just do it, Weasley!'_ he screamed at himself.

"You were just wondering...?" Hermione prodded.

"I was just wondering if we might be able to apparate out of Hogwarts," Ron finished lamely. Hermione reacted just as expected.

Her eyes rolled upward and she replied exasperatedly, "Oh don't be ridiculous Ron! I've told you a thousand times! It's right in _Hogwarts: A History_, honestly! You can't apparate from anywhere on the Hogwarts grounds! Come on, we're going to be late." She huffed in annoyance and slung her bag over her shoulder, heading for the door. Ron grabbed his bag as well, hopping off the bed and silently smacking himself upside the head.

'_Good one mate, make sure she knows you're an absolute dolt, eh?'_

He sighed and closed the door, following behind her.

'_This is never going to work._' "My life is _over_, Harry, and it's all your bloody fault!" he moaned later as he and Harry ate lunch. Well, more of picked and poked at lunch in his case, but...

Harry simply smiled mildly at him and said, "What, you've given up already?"

"Oh, don't get all smug with me, Mr. Cho Chang! You know how hard this is! I choked!" Ron said, miserably stabbing an unsuspecting sausage on his plate.

Harry, who had turned pink at the mention of his previous love endeavors, paused at Ron's last words. "Wait," he said, "You mean you've tried?"

"In the Hospital Wing," Ron muttered, laying his head on the crook of his elbow as he mashed all the contents of his plate together.

"What happened?" Harry said, looking puzzled.

"Ergh..." Ron covered his head with his arms. "I told you, I choked."

"Meaning...?"

"I grabbed her arm and said, 'I was wondering if we...could apparate out of Hogwarts,'" he mumbled. Then he groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. "Oh, Merlin... That sounds like a bad pick-up line!"

Harry stared at him in disbelief, "You're joking."

Ron shook his head and Harry snorted, struggling to keep a straight face. "Seriously?" he said, and Ron shot him a dirty look. This time Harry couldn't contain his laughter and he covered his mouth, attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to stifle his sniggers. Ron glared at him over his arm.

"Oh, shut it, Potter." Then his eyes narrowed. "Speaking of the Hospital Wing, where'd you go running off to? And don't tell me 'McGonagall's office,' because that's codswallop and you know it."

Harry sobered quickly, suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable, and he chose that moment to take a large bite of turkey. Ron smirked, suddenly forgetting about his previous discomfiture.

"Harry..." Ron said, waggling a finger at him.

Harry, with as much innocence as he could muster, pointed at his mouthful of food.

"I can wait, Harry. We're classmates and roommates, remember?" he smiled smugly, as Harry swallowed a bit, his cheeks pinkening. "Sooner or later you'll have to talk."

"Yes, and it'll be later rather than sooner," Harry replied and jumped up. "Oh, there's the bell. Let's be off shall we or we'll be late for class, eh?" He quickly gathered his things and was headed toward the doors before Ron could say anything.

"I'll find out, Potter," he called after him. "You just wait!"

* * *

Ron didn't get the chance to grill Harry during the break after lunch, however. When he reached the hall, Harry had vanished and he didn't reappear until just moments before the bell rang for class. He slipped in beside Ron and Hermione just as Professor Sprout was greeting them. 

"Good afternoon, class! Today we'll be working with the Spined Pillywhistle..."

"Where were you?" Ron whispered, leaning over.

"Er--no where," Harry lied, unconvincingly, as he pulled on his dragon-hide gloves. "Just to get some stuff from my trunk."

Ron narrowed his eyes at him. "Like hell you did." Harry's face flushed slightly, but he said nothing.

"Will you two be quiet!" hissed Hermione, drawing their attention for the first time. Ron made sort of a squeaky whimpering sound and pulled Harry between he and Hermione, who looked at him as though he had sprouted a second nose. Harry, on the other hand, was bent over sniggering quietly. Ron jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, his ears bright pink and his face flushed, but he and Harry quieted down.

The rest of Herbology passed without much event, aside from Hermione's new conclusion that Ron was completely and utterly mad, seeing as he hid behind Harry throughout the whole class and began emitting a series of squeaks every time she spoke to him.

"Ron, what on earth his wrong with you today?" she demanded as they walked across the grounds to Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures.

"Me? Nothing!" Ron replied quickly, his voice rather high.

"Oh, honestly Ron. You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?" she said, fixing her gaze on him.

"Er...yes? I mean, well, I wish you would," he said honestly, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Just tell me what's going on Ron. Did you do something to my books again?" she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and Ron held up his hands in defense.

"No, no! Nothing like that!"

"You haven't 'accidentally' used them to support a game of Exploding Snap?" she said accusingly.

"Oh come on Hermione, that was an honest mistake," Ron protested, but he couldn't suppress a grin.

"Of course it was," she replied sarcastically. "That still doesn't explain why you've been squeaking at me all day though."

Ron blushed. "Puberty?" He shrugged sheepishly.

Hermione had to hide a smile. "Ron, you and I both know you were through with that by the end of fourth year."

Ron grinned, "But my voice has always cracked a lot."

"A _lot_," Hermione agreed and Ron clutched at his heart in mock horror. "But you never squeaked. Unless you were scared." She raised an eyebrow.

Ron's comfort immediately dropped to sublevels. '_Damn_,' he thought, '_How does she do that? I __thought I was going to manage this conversation without blushing five _billion _times_.' His ears turned red and he immediately averted his eyes, coughing and hitching his bag up on his shoulder. "Er..."

"Oi, Ron, Hermione!" '_Harry, my hero! ...I should throttle you_.' Harry trotted up, slightly out of breath. "Am I disturbing something?" He glanced between a smug looking Hermione and an uncomfortable and yet relieved Ron.

"No, not a thing!" Ron said quickly. "You're just in time in fact!"

"Oh, maybe I'll just go back and fetch an extra quill from my trunk then--" Harry said, grinning impishly.

Ron grabbed him by the shoulder of his robes and glowered down at him, "You will not!"

"Well, honestly, Weasel. You can't expect him _not _to catch the snitch for both teams when he's stuck with someone like _you _for a boyfriend..." Malfoy's voice slithered into the conversation as he strolled past, Slytherins had no classes Thursday afternoons. Ron couldn't help thinking that he was like a bad case of acne, always popping up at the _worst _opportunity and ruining everything. Too bad the git never HAD acne... Before he could even think about responding, Malfoy and his group of cronies had disappeared across the grounds, laughing hysterically. His words then registered, and Ron began spluttering indignantly, his ears reddening and Harry simply stood gaping after Malfoy, his face darkly colored.

"'Catch the snitch for both teams'?" Hermione repeated, bemused. "I've never heard _that _before."

"Oh, honestly Hermione, are you _joking_?" Ron said incredulously. "It means Malfoy thinks he's--"

"I know what it _means_!" Hermione hissed, flushing. "That's absurd. If G--"

"HERMIONE! A QUILL! Can I borrow a quill?" Harry asked vehemently, cutting her off and glaring at her pointedly.

Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth before diving into her bag to try and cover her obvious slip. Although what exactly she was slipping on, Ron had absolutely no idea. He looked suspiciously between Harry and Hermione and said, "Harry, there's a quill _sticking out of the __pocket of your bag_."

Harry looked down and plucked the quill from his bag, muttering feebly, "Hey, how'd that get there?"

Ron squinched his eyes up at him and crossed his arms starting to straighten up to use his height again. "All right, what's going on? You're not telling me something."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under Ron's gaze, but quickly shifted his focus. "Shouldn't you be worrying about something else?" he said, gesturing with his head toward Hermione. Ron glowered at him. Near the front of the class, closer to Hagrid's hut, there were several shrieks and Hagrid's booming voice rang out over the grounds.

"All righ', quiet down!" he ordered, as the bell to begin class dimly reached their corner of Hogwarts. "Today we're startin' a new, ah...section, right." He paused dramatically, although whether or not it was on purpose, Ron couldn't tell, before announcing:

"Crup."

A murmur spread through the class quickly and then Hagrid began moving toward the back. "I want all of yeh to get a good look." The shrieks began to move backward toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione as did Hagrid, and nervous giggling followed after he had passed. Harry and Ron looked at one another anxiously, preparing for the worst. They were speechless when half a dozen pint-sized Jack Russel Terriers broke through the crowd, yipping furiously and straining at their leashes, which were clutched tightly in one of Hagrid's enormous fists.

"Blimey Hagrid, those are just--_oh_." Ron froze, half bent over to scratch the ears of one of the crup, spotting its frantically wagging _forked _tail. The rest of the class had begun to gather around realizing that the small dog-like creatures weren't in fact dangerous and seemed much like regular old Jack Russel Terriers, aside from the mildly disconcerting difference in their tails. Several of the girls were huddled around, squealing and cuddling two of the more friendly ones. A few boys were also treating some of them to good scratches behind the ears or on the stomach. A little less than half the class stood back, warily watching the proceedings, not yet ready to trust in the docility of the crup, particularly after the alarming records of Hagrid's previous "pets". Sometimes it seemed as though any creature could become dangerous when in his care.

Ron glanced up from the crup he was currently playing tug-o-war with using the sleeve of his robes just in time to see Hermione smile one of her warmest smiles at Hagrid and say teasingly, "Hagrid, I'm impressed. You finally found a creature that won't viciously attack or lie around completely uselessly!" Hagrid blushed furiously, averting his eyes and Ron chuckled, amused. It amazed--and embarrassed--him to admit that Hermione's growing sense of humor and assertiveness had always made her seem that much more attractive. He sighed, a silly grin making its way onto his face and put his chin in his hand, supporting it on his knee as he watched her. Harry noticed the change and smirked, shoving him with his tennis shoe.

"Whoops! Sorry Ron!" he said, far too brightly, and grinned. "Looks like you've _fallen_. Maybe you _should do something_." Ron glared and stuck out his tongue at him. Then his face scrunched up as one of the crup began licking the side of his face.

"Was I making that face again?" he asked pathetically, trying to push the persistent croup away.

Harry grinned and nodded, catching one of the crup in midair as it leapt at him, trying to lick his face. Ron groaned and flopped back in the grass, only to sputter and shout, "Oh, GROSS!" As several of the crup dashed over to him, jumping around and licking his face. "Augh!" he cried, covering his face with his arms and making spitting noises. "It got me in the _mouth_!"

Harry burst into a full-bodied, gut-wrenching laugh, Ron's yelling only making it worse until his legs had collapsed beneath him and he lay on the grass, wheezing between bursts of laughter.

Ron grunted loudly in annoyance, trying to push the feisty little creatures off, shouting, "This isn't bloody funny, Harry!"

Harry only clutched his aching sides, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, and laughed harder.

* * *

Later, after one surprisingly fun and _informative _Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Ron and Hermione made their way up to the common room to deposit their things before dinner, having lost Harry somewhere outside the Great Hall again. Ron was pleading with her to tell him what was going on, but as per her history, she was standing firm. "Come on, Hermione. I'm his best friend too!" he whined. 

"I know. I'm sorry Ron, really I am. But I promised, and Harry's trying to figure some..._things_...out and doesn't want everyone to know, just in case," she explained, trying to be somewhatgentle.

"I'm not _'everyone'!_" Ron cried, violently gesturing air-quotes. "I'm his best friend!"

"I'm sorry, Ron. I _promised_. If it makes you feel any better, I don't _really _know all that much more than you..." she said, stopping as they reached the portrait hole.

"Liar," Ron grumbled. "Phoenix feathers." He started to climb sulkily into the portrait hole when Hermione reached out and grabbed his hand, turning him around. He froze. '_Oh Merlin, she __knows!_' Ron thought in a panic.

"Ron," Hermione began, "He's not not telling you because he doesn't trust you. He just wants tobe sure what he's doing is _right _for him. I hope you understand that." '_Oh thank Merlin..._'

Ron narrowed his eyes. "He doesn't _really _catch for both teams...does he?"

Hermione blushed and said indignantly, "Ronald Weasley! Of course not!"

"Well, what am I _supposed _to think!"

"Not _that_, you prat!"

"It's not going to hurt him--whatever the bloody hell it is--is it?" Ron said, sobering a little.

Hermione's gaze softened, "No, no, he'll be okay."

"All right then..." he muttered, resigning.

Hermione smiled, brushing his bangs out of his face affectionately. "That's very noble of you Ron."

Ron's ears immediately burned red, his face quickly following suit. "Er--yeah--well, I er--" He couldn't _breathe!_

"Come on. I've finished my homework for Monday already. Let's play a game of chess and then we'll see if you and Harry can con me into helping you stretching your essays those last few inches." She then climbed through the portrait hole. Ron gawked after her. Merlin, he knew she had changed since their first year, but she still managed to stun him with random bursts of playfulness and sarcasm. He loved those surprises. A silly smile covered his face and he quickly crawled after her into the common room.

* * *

That evening he and Harry sat huddled at a table in the corner of the common room, flipping through several Quidditch books they had accumulated over the last year or so, researching what sort of moves and excercises they wanted to put to use in Quidditch practice. Harry had finally become captain last year when the rest of the more experienced players had graduated, and he often employed Ron to set up practices. "Whoa, Harry, check this out," Ron said, flipping one of the books he was looking at upside down so he could see a diagram printed on the page. 

Harry glanced at it and snorted. "Ron, I don't think the Cleansweeps could even manage the turnsand speed necessary for that. They'd shatter before even reaching _altitude_."

Ron grimaced, rubbing his bottom as he imagined a broom shattering beneath him. "Right then." He shut the book and then paused before looking up at Harry. "Er--Harry? I wanted to a--"

"Ooh, Ron!" Ginny squealed, flouncing up and throwing her arms around his neck. "I heard about your predicament this morning, I'm so excited for you!"

"Wh--what!" Ron spluttered, trying to pry her off. "What the hell Ginny!"

She grinned at him, leaning on the table. "The ultimatum, _Ron_," she said as though he should know exactly what she was raving about.

Ron's jaw dropped and he floundered, speechless for a full minute before turning to Harry furiously. "YOU TOLD HER!" he thundered. Harry cringed and Ginny simply beamed at him.

"Bloody hell, what's wrong with you! I wasn't in enough pain as it was!" he demanded.

"Er...well...it _slipped_..." Harry mumbled vaguely, looking sheepish.

"SLIPPED? Who else did it 'slip' to!" he yelled.

"Er...well, I didn't tell anyone else..." he replied evasively.

Ron rounded on Ginny. "_Who did you tell?_"

Ginny smiled, trying to looking innocent. "Just a _few _people... My friends... Dean..." Ron grimaced and let his head fall with a 'thunk' on the table. "Lavender..."

"LAVENDER!" Ron bellowed. "ARE YOU MAD!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, Ron," she said, exasperated.

"Merlin, kill me now! She probably already knows--and she hasn't _said _anything--she hates me!" he moaned, sinking down in his chair and covering his head with his arms.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron--"

"She's probably in the library, having a good laugh at my expense!" he muttered lugubriously.

"Snap out of it Ron!" Ginny cried, slapping him sharply across the face in irritation.

"Ow! Hey! Ginny!" he yelped, putting a hand to his cheek and looking annoyed.

"Quit being such a ridiculous prat! Lavender did not tell Hermione about your deadline. She swore she wouldn't tell because she thought it was '_SO_ ingenious'." She rolled her eyes and smiled at Harry who turned pink, looking extremely pleased.

"Ingenious my arse!" Ron grumbled.

Ginny sat down grinning and said earnestly, "Oh Ron, I'm so happy for you. It's about time you and Hermione got together."

Ron frowned, blushing, and said, "What is this, a conspiracy?"

"Wait till Mum gets my letter! She'll be thrilled!" she exclaimed.

Once again, Ron was stricken speechless and he stared at her in horror. "You wrote _Mum _about this!"

Ginny covered her mouth looking panicked. "Oops." She immediately leapt up, racing for the girls' dormitory stairs and Ron overturned his chair with a terrible racket, bolting after her.

"I'LL KILL YOU GINNY!_ I'LL KILL YOU!_" he thundered.

"Goodnight, Harry!" Ginny yelled and disappeared up the stairs.

"Night!" Harry called after her.

Ron stood at the base of the stairs, breathing heavily and clenching and unclenching his fists angrily. The common room had fallen completely silent and all of the occupants were staring, shocked, at him. Then the portrait hole swung open and every eye swung over to it as Hermione appeared, freezing when she noticed their stares. Ron turned and the color immediately drained from his face and he sprinted up the boys' dormitory stairs. For a few tense moments the occupants of the common room stared at Hermione, before conversation and activity slowly resumed. Hermione tentatively made her way over to where Harry was still seated and said, bewildered, "What on _earth _was that?"

Harry simply shrugged, grinning, and replied, "Who knows?"

Upstairs Ron lay face down on his bed with his face buried in his pillow. It was extremely difficult to breathe in this position and he was sorely tempted to remain as he was until he simply faded away, only his breath was making the pillow smell funny. He rolled over, gasping, and groaned. Things were bad enough dealing with Harry's bloody ultimatum, now everyone was going to know--even his _mum_. He growled and turned on his side, punching his pillow and imagining it were Harry's stupid, fat head. And when Harry finally did come to bed, and said goodnight, he ignored him childishly.

He spent the rest of the night mulling over what he could possibly do when he couldn't even hardly get up the courage to _speak _to Hermione, let alone _ask_. He came up with hundreds of solutions, each stupider and more impossible than the last. He was in deep trouble.

He didn't sleep that night.

* * *

Again, I'd like to ask you to please review, even to let me know about a tiny grammar or spelling error, or to tell me that there's a gaping plot hole or something of that sort. Any input you have as a reader would benefit me SO much. If there's something you don't like the flow of, or if you want a scene better fleshed out or ANYTHING, please **let me know**. Again, thank you SO much. 

If you have ANY brilliant ideas for something that should take place in the story, **please **comment and let me know! I need all the ideas I can get!

Thank you, guys, and I hope you're enjoying the story!


	3. Day 29 A Really Rotten Day

I know. It's incredible. I've made an update. I won't even apologize this time because it's just disrespectful to you guys. I did update a _little_ sooner though. XD Anyway, this is the second chapter, and I think it's quite lovely and long. Lots of interesting stuff happens. It took me FOREVER to get the ideas all sorted out and set up though, goodness... And please ignore my skimming over the whole "Voldemort" problem. XDDDD And, yeah. It's 3:30 in the morning and I can't think straight. XD

* * *

The sun had already been up for an hour when Ron could no longer stand lying in bed staring at his canopy before he threw open the curtains and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, careful to keep his feet perched on the bed frame to avoid the cold floor as he groped under the bed with one hand, trying to find his slippers. When he found them, he slipped them on and grabbed his bathrobe, and shrugged it on before shuffling out of the dorm room.

Down in the common room, a smallish fire was burning in the fireplace. Ron chose the couch nearest it and sat down, pulling his legs up and stared into the fire. He remained that way for a while, not really thinking about anything at all, his mind a blissfully exhausted blank slate. At least his exhaustion was good for one thing. He was too tired to really concentrate on worrying over Hermione anymore.

A chill washed over him and he curled into himself, wincing as a sharp pain briefly shot up his arms in thin lines and up into his neck where it sparked a brief, almost blinding pain through his skull before it vanished, almost as if it had never happened. Ron sucked in a breath through his teeth, clutching his head in his hands. He had gotten used to the random and sudden bursts of pain, or at least as much as was possible. The first time though--the first time when the pain had struck, he had thrown himself from a chair, screaming and clawing at his head, it had been so shocking. His mother and father had panicked, immediately rushing him to St. Mungo's. He had been terrified. But the Healer explained that sometimes magical scars did that sort of thing and Ron would be perfectly all right, other than having to deal with a moment's pain every so often. It had been disturbing and reassuring all at once. He had also suddenly and horrifyingly understood what Harry often felt.

After a taking a deep breath he sat up and tentatively pulled one arm out of his robes and rolled up the sleeve, peering at the dark pink slashes that laced his arm, reminders of that horrible night in the Ministry. He grimaced, remembering, and pulled down his sleeve again. Harry had recovered immeasurably since that time with his and Hermione's help, as well as the Weasley family, Lupin, and a number of other people who had helped him deal with the horrors in his life. Every so often, Ron caught a glimpse of a scared, almost empty Harry, but with either a quick chat or a joke that Harry never stayed long.

You-Know-Who had been almost terrifyingly quiet over the last two years. There had been some serious shifts in the wizarding world, and sides had been chosen, but aside from a few sparse killings, things had been deceptively smooth. Many of those in the Order speculated that You-Know-Who was simply lurking in the shadows, waiting until he felt as though he knew Harry and Dumbledore's moves well enough to try a full-frontal attack. But it was still only speculation. Even Dumbledore was rather clueless and terribly uncertain. He refused to let You-Know-Who ruin school life, however. This was precisely why Quidditch and the Hogsmeade trips were still operational, despite protests. They were far more heavily guarded however, than in previous years and students were severely punished for disobeying rules.

Ron shook his head, trying to rid himself of these thoughts. He loathed thinking about the war and much of what was associated with it. It terrified him. There was the sudden quiet slap of slippers descending from one of the staircases and Ron turned to see who else was up at this ungodly hour on Gryffindor's lesson free Friday. It was Ginny who descended the stairs, yawning and rubbing her eyes sleepily. When she spotted Ron her eyebrows went up in an expression of surprise.

"Oh, Ron! I didn't think anyone would be up," she said, moving to the sofa and sitting beside him, tucking her legs beneath her.

Ron nodded. "I know. Me neither. I didn't sleep last night though and I got right tired of staring up at the lint on my bed clothes."

Ginny smiled, but looked at him in concern. "I just woke up. Not sure why. Ron, are you really that worried about this whole situation?" She reached over, gently squeezing his hand.

Ron turned scarlet and stared down at her hand. After a short silence, he shrugged awkwardly. "I…I like her, Gin."

Ginny couldn't help but smirk. "Really? I had no idea."

Ron looked up, his expression harassed.

Ginny grinned, "I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, yeah…" he grumbled. There was a brief silence before he burst, "Merlin, what am I supposed to do!"

Ginny smiled sympathetically. "Well, Ron, what you _should_ do is ask Hermione to go with you to Hogsmeade."

"But—"

"Ron, the worst that's going to happen is Hermione will say something like, 'Oh, Ron, but we've so much work to do!' and you'll have to convince her to put them down for a couple of hours," she said.

Ron couldn't stop a small smile. Even if he did ask her, that _would_ probably be half the battle.

"Honestly, Ron, you should ask her," Ginny said earnestly.

"Ask who what?"

Ron turned sharply, nearly giving himself whiplash, his face paling. Hermione smiled back at him. She was already dressed, her hair neatly clipped back. Well, neatly for her anyway. "You two are up early," she said cheerfully, sitting down beside Ron. He continued staring at her in terror. She looked between the two of them. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Ginny grinned. "Oh no, not at all. I was just going to shower." She got up, and, flashing a smile at Ron, who was staring at her in shock, trotted up the stairs.

Hermione watched her go and then sat back and looked at Ron. "So who were you talking about?"

"Oh, er, no one…" he muttered, his ears turning red. "Just, er, something about Mum." _Idiot!_ Idiot, idiot, _idiot!_

"Oh, all right then." She smiled warmly. Ron flushed and there was a long silence when her gaze dropped to his pajamas and she smiled, reaching over and folding the collar down. Ron's flush darkened and his voice seemed to vanish. "These are nice. I don't remember them. Are they new?"

He nodded numbly. "Bill—my birthday—" he croaked.

"Oh, that was nice of him." She paused and then tilted her head looking at him as though he were a problem she couldn't quite find the solution to. "Ron, you're acting very strangely lately, are you sure you're all right?"

He squeaked and nodded. "Just feeling a bit off," he muttered, I'll be fine!"

She nodded and let it go, "All right, let me know if you need something though, okay?"

He nodded again, the tension in his chest lessening slightly as she leaned back and closed her eyes. "I will, Hermione. I promise." She smiled.

"Good."

They lapsed into silence again and Ron fidgeted anxiously with the tie of his robe. He was uncomfortably aware of how close she was, and how easy it would be just to blurt it out and get it over with. 'Come on. Just ask her! Ginny's right! Just do it! Come on Weasley! Open your big, dumb mouth and _ask!_'

His mouth opened obediently, but instead of, "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me? Pretty please?" coming out, instead he said, "So, do you suppose Harry will sleep all day?"

Hermione opened her eyes, her expression a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. "Ron, don't you think you would know about that better than I?"

He blushed. "Er…right. Yeah." Doomed. He was completely and utterly _doomed_.

Speaking of the devil, however, Harry chose that awkward moment to come shuffling downstairs, still yawning widely. His hair was mussed, and his pajamas were askew, but he looked relatively rested, comparatively. He smiled groggily at Hermione and Ron and plopped down on Hermione's right, mumbling, "G'morning."

Hermione smiled at him and pointed at his collar. "Harry, fix it, _please_." He grinned and proceeded to flip the other side up as well, just to exasperate her. It worked like a charm. She frowned and said impatiently, "Oh, _Harry_." She chose to ignore his smart aleck-ness however, and turned to Ron. "It appears that your question has been answered."

Ron grinned feebly and nodded. "So it seems."

"What question?" Harry asked curiously, smirking in amusement when he saw Hermione's fingers twitching anxiously as she glanced not-so-furtively at his collar.

"I just was wondering if you'd get up today at all. Sometimes we don't see you on Fridays," he said, smiling teasingly.

Harry made a face at him. "Oh shut up. I get tired."

Hermione looked at him warmly and gently squeezed his hand. "Of course, Harry. You're perfectly entitled to a good day of sleeping when you need it."

Harry could see the gloom and the jealousy rise up in the back of Ron's eyes when Hermione's hand touched his and he nodded quickly, smiling. "Thanks, Hermione." She pulled away, and Harry caught Ron's gaze apologetically. Ron merely blushed and huffed lightly. Ginny reentered the room at that point, skipping over to the couch and gracefully shoving both Hermione and Harry over as she sat between them, her hair still wet and fragrant from her shower. Harry looked amused as she winked at him when Ron paled as Hermione was pressed up next to him.

"Oh, honestly, Ginny! Some warning would be welcome!" Hermione complained halfheartedly, blushing and trying to maintain composure.

Ginny grinned. "Whoops." The conversation broke for a few minutes and the four of them simply stared around the room absently until Ron tentatively started a new conversation with some familiar ground.

"So why aren't you studying Hermione? You're not finished are you?" he asked.

Hermione sniffed delicately and replied, "As a matter of fact, I am."

The three others proceeded to look stunned. "You're joking!" Harry cried.

Hermione smoothed out her robes. "Of course not."

"Blimey, Hermione, that's mad!" Ron muttered, staring at her wide-eyed.

"And you're not studying for N.E.W.T.s? I'm gobsmacked," Ginny said.

"Well, it is our day off…" she said, her tone slightly indignant.

Harry grinned, "Aw, we're just joking, Hermione, don't get upset."

"I wasn't!"

"Oh, please. Hermione, we can see you getting defensive a mile away," Ron said rolling his eyes.

"I do not!"

And so the conversation continued, stretching along this tangent for a long time. Things slowly returned to relative normalcy and Ron's mind was (almost) blissfully clear of the looming ultimatum.

* * *

A few hours later, after breakfast, when Ginny had headed off to be with her friends from her year (or so Ron assumed anyway), Harry had vanished mysteriously once again, and Hermione had succumbed to the draw of a novel, Ron headed out onto the snowy grounds to think.

When he had reached the tree near the lake, Ron lifted his mittened hands to his mouth and blew on them to try and warm them. His nose was already freezing, but this was the best place to be alone.

"Okay. This is no big deal, Weasley," he said, trying to give himself a pep talk. So far, he was failing. Miserably. "All you've got to do is figure out how to ask her." He sighed, his breath going out in a puff of condensation. Then he looked out at the lake and said casually, "You wanna go to Hogsmeade with me?" Then he grimaced and waved a hand dismissively. "Ugh, that's _terrible_." He raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed them briefly before looking out at the lake again and holding out his hands imploringly. "Hermione, I'd really like to go to Hogsmeade with you." He paused and then groaned again.

"I sound like a complete pansy! Hermione's going to think I'm a complete _idiot_." He paused and then said dryly, "Oh wait, she already _does_. This is hopeless!" He sat down with a WHOOMP in the powdery snow and covered his face with his hands, half out of misery and half to try and warm his frozen nose. After a minute or two of wallowing in his self pity, he looked up and muttered resolutely, "I have to do this. Somehow I've _got to do it_." He heaved a smoky sigh and got to his feet once again and began pacing.

"Okay, so I need to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with me, without inferring that Harry should come along, without making a fool of myself, and while hinting that I like her. A lot.

"Oh, good grief! No one can do that all in a sentence or two!" he cried, pressing his hands to his poor aching skull. Maybe Hermione was right when she described him as having the emotional and mental depth of a teaspoon. "I'm in trouble…" He took a deep breath and turned back towards the lake, starting composedly, "Hermione, I'd really like it if you would go to Hogsmeade with me. If we could have some—"

"Oh, _Hermione!_" a voice squealed. "I love you, won't you go to Hogsmeade and snog with me!" There was an uproar of laughter.

Ron blanched, his face quickly turning the color of porridge. Oh bloody _hell_…

He turned slowly to face the voice and his stomach gave a sickening lurch as he met eyes with a wickedly smirking Draco Malfoy and several Slytherins, who were still laughing loudly.

"What, Weasel? Trying to come up with a pick-up line to make the mudblood go out with you?"

"Don't call her that," Ron said quietly, his ears and cheeks burning red. Malfoy might be able to get away with ripping into he and Harry, but he'd be damned if he let the slimy git call _Hermione_ dirty.

"I've got one for you, Weasel. 'Oi, come and ride my broom, won't you, Granger?'" he said loudly and his followers burst into even more raucous laughter.

"I said _shut up_," Ron grit, his fists clenching furiously in his mittens.

Draco's eyes glittered malevolently. "You and Granger would be perfect together, Weasel. The mudblood and the most pathetic member of the most pathetic wizarding family in the wo—OOF!"

Ron was on top of Malfoy before he even knew what had happened, a furious roar tearing from his throat. They hit the ground, hard, and Malfoy's breath rushed out in a whoosh as he stared up at Ron in shock. Ron's temper flared again as he looked down at the lousy, greasy, scumbag beneath him and he began pummeling him for all he was worth. He got in several vicious punches before one of Draco's cronies finally reacted and smashed a fist into the side of his jaw, sending him sprawling into the snow, his jaw aching and blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

Malfoy managed to finally catch his breath and he howled, "What are you waiting for you imbeciles! _Get him!_"

The first blow was a snow boot to his ribs and after that, there were so many hits that Ron couldn't feel them individually. After what felt like an eternity, Malfoy seemed to decide that Ron had gotten the message and, just for good measure, he spat on Ron's face before leading the gang away.

It was several minutes before Ron even budged, his body ached everywhere, and sharp pains kept exploding in his ribcage. The cold snow felt good on his hot, battered face for a few minutes, but it soon became biting and painful. He finally pushed himself up, gritting his teeth against the pain. There was a large, bright red spot where his head had been lying, and now that he sat up, he felt a warm trickle trailing down the side of his face. Blimey, he was an idiot… He brushed a bit of snow off of his cheek, wincing as he touched a tender, swollen area and then began to stand, cringing as his ribs gave a sharp protest. Once on his feet, he leaned against the tree as pain coursed through him and wondered dimly if he should just lie down again and die here. It would stop both the pain and his Hermione problem.

Speaking of which, oh Merlin, now _Malfoy_ knew. He was definitely screwed. Hermione would know within the hour. Knowing that his doom was inevitable made him somehow cheerier, and he headed up to the castle slowly, trying to ignore his various aches and pains.

He managed to make it back to the Gryffindor common room without having to deal with more than a few terrified looks from some of the first years. When he crawled into the commons, however, it was only seconds before someone noticed. That someone happened to be Seamus, whose eyes widened, a mug of hot tea smashing on the stones at his feet.

"Blimey, Ron!" he cried. "What happened to you?" Other eyes were fixed upon him in an instant as Seamus pulled him over to the couch.

Ginny appeared next, looking torn between horror and annoyance, "Ronald, what have you been doing!"

"Did you have a go with the Whomping Willow?" Harry asked, marveling at the blood drying on Ron's face.

"Ron! You didn't get in a _fight_, did you?" Hermione demanded, looking irritated.

Ron immediately got defensive. "So what if I did?"

"Oh, Ron, you _know_ better than to fight with Draco Malfoy!" she chastised.

"Hey, I was defending _your_ honor!"

Hermione blushed slightly and merely said, "Oh _Ron_…"

"Boy, Ron, Malfoy sure did some work on you…" Dean commented.

Ron bristled. "It wasn't _just_ Malfoy! It was him and that pack of Slytherin goons always following him around."

"Did you at least get a good hit in?" Ginny asked, exasperated.

Ron managed to grin, looking quite proud of himself. "He'll have two very lovely raccoon eyes if he doesn't see Madam Pomfrey, that's for sure."

Ginny grinned and rolled her eyes. "Well, that's something I suppose. Speaking Madam Pomfrey, you look _terrible_. You had best get down there."

"Aw, I don't need that old bat," Ron said dismissively and began to stand. A sharp pain tearing through his ribs quickly put an end to that, however, and he cursed, sitting back down. Ginny rolled her eyes again and Hermione sighed.

"Oh, _honestly_, Ron. Come on, I'll take you."

Before he could protest, she had put an arm through his and helped him to his feet. He glanced back at the others in terror as they started through the portrait hole and Harry simply grinned and Seamus shot him a thumbs-up.

In the hall, Ron couldn't believe his rotten luck. Malfoy had failed him. And while it wasn't hard to believe, it was even worse because his best friends had simply tossed him to the lion!

On the other hand, he _was_ alone with Hermione, and that had been the whole point of going out in the freezing cold to rehearse. But then _again_, he hadn't come up with anything good. _Dammit!_

In the end, it was Hermione who spoke first. "I appreciate what you did, Ron," she said quietly.

"Huh?" Ron broke from his thoughts to look at her blankly.

She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear before saying, "I _said_, I appreciate you standing up for me. That was very noble of you. Stupid, yes, but noble."

Ron's expression soured. "Oh, thanks for that Hermione."

She blushed even more darkly and looked at him quickly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just—I don't want you getting hurt like this Ron."

Ron softened into a light sulk. "Yeah, well…"

Hermione smiled and shook her head.

There was another brief silence and Ron glanced at her, considering. She was really quite nice. Maybe she _wouldn't_ laugh. "Hermione—"

"Here we are!"

Merlin's _beard_.

"Mister Weasley!"

He sighed. Here it came…

"What on earth have you been doing!"

"Just—don't ask," he muttered and she frowned, but quickly dragged him off and began working on his various injuries.

It wasn't until two hours later that Madam Pomfrey finally gave him a clean bill of health and let him leave the Hospital Wing with a warning that the next time she would be alerting his head of house.

* * *

So Ron ventured out, debating whether or not he wanted to seek Hermione out and attempt to ask her again, or if he just wanted to go and hide like a coward. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how he was thinking about it at the moment, he was intercepted by Snape who had a nicely bruised Draco Malfoy tailing behind him pathetically. That couldn't be good. Snape narrowed his eyes at him and said derisively, "Mr. Weasley. I believe you and I have a problem."

Ron tried to look confused. "A problem, sir?"

"Mr. Malfoy tells me that _you_ are responsible for this," he said scathingly.

Ron couldn't think of a response that wouldn't either get him in more trouble, or just irritate Snape even further.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Snape muttered. "I have taken twenty five points from Gryffindor and you have three nights' detention to be served tonight, tomorrow, and the next day. I expect you at eight o'clock sharp. That is all, Mr. Weasley." He and Malfoy swept past, Malfoy grinning evilly and Ron grit his teeth to keep from doing something he would regret. Bloody Malfoy. That was fifty points in two days now! Boy were his classmates going to be annoyed…

Sighing irritably, Ron started back towards the Gryffindor common room to look for Harry, in order to rant about his lousy luck. When he arrived, however, instead of being able to go and gripe about Snape with Harry, he was met with two girly squeals and Lavender and Parvati latched onto either of his arms, dragging him over to a chair by the fireplace. "So, tell us EVERYTHING!" Lavender gushed, clutching his and looking sparkly eyed at him.

Ron stared blankly at her. "All _what?_" These two were nutters. Absolutely _nutters_.

"About how you _asked_ her!"

Ron's face turned red. "Who told you that!"

The two girls exchanged a glance. "No one. We just assumed since you were alone and vulnerable it would have been the _perfect_ chance…"

Ron made a face, feeling humiliated. _Way to muck it up, Weasley_, he thought. Finally he said shortly, "Well, I didn't."

Lavender and Parvati looked horrified. "Oh, Ron! How could you waste an opportunity like that!" Parvati cried.

Now he began to get irritated. Enough pointing out of his every flaw! "It's not that easy!" he said defensively.

"Of course not, Ron," Lavender said sympathetically.

"But you've got to ask her in specific conditions so that you can mystify her with your charm," Parvati said, her tone going rather melodramatic.

"There are _conditions?_" Ron said, perplexed.

"Of course there are! There are optimal conditions in which you should ask a girl to do _anything_ with you which always raise the chances that she'll agree!" Parvati said, sounding as though she couldn't believe he hadn't been let in on these tricks of the trade.

"And going to the Hospital Wing is one of them?" he said, now thoroughly confused. How was that romantic in the least?

"Absolutely!" Lavender exclaimed. "Girls LOVE a boy in distress. Especially ones that they like! They're immediately prone to submitting to the boy's requests because they want to help him feel better!"

"They do?"

"Trust us, Ron," Parvati said reassuringly. "We know what we're talking about."

"All right, here's what you need to look for, Ron. If she's alone, or you can get her that way, that's number one. No girl wants to feel pressured or like everyone is seeing what's going on." Ron nodded, trying to sear the information in his brain. This could be really useful.

"Number two: Don't just stammer at her. She won't get it (trust us). Make sure you have something to say or she'll totally bail on you." Ron cringed. That one was going to be trouble.

"Number three: Don't do it somewhere weird—like the dungeon or the Great Hall. Ask her somewhere nice, and romantic, like when you're taking a walk on the snowy grounds or—"

"In front of the fire together or—"

"When she's helping you or—"

"Up in the Astronomy Tower overlooking the grounds—"

"You get the point."

Ron's head spun. This was going to be even more complicated than he had originally imagined.

"Number four: Do something sweet. Give her candy or flowers or…well, I don't know, something Hermione would like." Oh…maybe _books?_

"Ooh, and don't forget, a little distress goes a long way. If you're sick, or injured, or if you need help, use that!" Manipulation…okay, he could do that.

"And consider her mood! Don't ask if she's really busy, or angry, or sad, or irritated." When did that leave a chance to ask her then!

"Just remember," Lavender said seriously, "Even a girl like Hermione likes to be swept off of her feet." She put her hand to her mouth and began to look teary-eyed and Ron looked at her in alarm. What the hell had brought that on! "Oh, Ron! This is just so cuuuuuuute!" Both girls lunged at him, wrapping their arms around his neck and wailing something about how adorable and pathetic he was. Ron was flabbergasted. He was just beginning to try prying them off when the portrait hole swung open and Hermione crawled through, pulling along several large books. Oh no. This was _bad_.

"Guys, gerroff!" he hissed, "_Hermione!_"

The girls were still too busy fawning, however, and when Hermione turned, they were still clinging to Ron. He instantaneously turned a bright shade of red and took on the look of a deer in headlights. Hermione stiffened almost imperceptibly, and clutched her books more tightly, staring for a moment before turning away in a very dignified manner and pretending that she hadn't seen a thing as she marched up the stairs to the girls dormitory. Well, _blast_…

"Gerroff!" he said irritably and gave the two girls a hefty push.

They looked at him, injured.

"What's gotten into you?" Parvati asked poutily.

Ron glowered. "_Hermione_ just walked through and saw you two being all…_mushy_…all over me."

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a glance, one hand going to their mouths. "Ooohhh…"

"Yeah, 'ooohhh' is right," Ron muttered. "Now she probably thinks I'm some _pervert_ or something!"

"That is a problem. Well, I suppose you'll just have to be _extra_ charming!" Lavender said. "We've got to go, see you!"

"Bye, Ron!"

And with that, she and Parvati flounced off, leaving Ron to stare after them, completely confounded. They had just…abandoned him! And after causing all that _trouble_…!

He growled and chucked a pillow at the other end of the couch petulantly. Who _knew_ about girls, honestly…

* * *

Not long after his enlightening conversation with the over exuberant, femininity oozing, roommates of Hermione, Ron finally managed to find Harry, who (though Ron didn't notice) was a bit out of breath and looked a little more flustered than usual. He proceeded to rant about the simply wretched day he had been having, with Harry providing a somewhat distracted listening partner.

"Can you believe that?" he finally concluded as they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Mmmm…" was Harry's cursory reply and when Ron looked at him to see what sort of reply that was, he frowned upon seeing the vacant look in Harry's eyes.

"Harry, are you listening to me?" he demanded.

"Mmm. Mmm…" Harry replied absently in a negative sort of way. Ron's eyes narrowed.

"Harry?"

"You don't say…"

Oh brother. He wasn't even _trying_ any more. "Harry, I thought I should let you know, I'm not going to ask Hermione anymore, I really want to ask Snape to go with me to Hogsmeade," he said gravely.

Harry's automatic response came, and then something seemed to have leaked into his brain because he looked up, his expression revolted, exclaiming, "_What?_" And then he flushed, catching sight of Ron's face.

"It was nice of you to listen to me when I needed you, Harry," he said wryly.

The flush spread even further. "Sorry, Ron. I've got something on my mind…"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, I hadn't noticed."

Harry looked sufficiently put in his place. "Sorry, mate. Really I am. What were you saying?"

Ron waved it off sighing. "Oh, never mind. It doesn't matter anyway."

Harry looked embarrassed, but let the subject go anyway. Dinner passed without any major disruptions or unconformities, especially since Ron was now aware of the Girl's Guide to Asking A Female Out And Getting the Answer You Want and he knew that even if he thought of the most brilliant monologue to woo Hermione with, in the Great Hall in front of the entire school was _not_ the place for it. And so, he relaxed and, to be honest, everyone was secretly pleased to have things a little bit more like normal. A wigged out Ron made things a little hairy at times.

* * *

After dinner, when Harry volunteered to play chess with him, Ron assumed it was his way of trying to further apologize for not listening earlier. But whatever his motivations, Ron wasn't one to turn down a good chess match. Well, an _okay_ chess match anyway…Harry was still terrible at the game.

"Oh, blimey, Ron! Why'd you do that!" Harry cried as Ron's knight smugly eliminated his queen. "I don't even know why I play with you, I never win."

Ron grinned. "You can't be good at everything."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, I feel loads better now. Thanks for that."

Ron laughed. "You offered to play!"

Harry glared sulkily at the board, "I know, I must have been mad to have done it…" He moved one of his two remaining pawns and Ron had to struggle to keep a straight face. Ouch. Well, that finished the game then. He picked up his rook, and smirking placed it in the empty square. "Checkmate."

"What!" Harry sat up abruptly, gaping at the board. "No way! Oh, for the love of—"

Ron grinned, "You were trounced, my friend. Soundly trounced."

Harry glared. "Oh, shut up, you smug git."

Ron's grin only broadened. Nearby, Ginny added, "You know, I think that may have been the worst played game I've ever seen. And I've seen a lot of them."

Harry turned to gape at Ginny. "It's a conspiracy!"

Ginny grinned at him. "Admit it Harry. That was an _awful_ game."

"Yes, but we don't have to broadcast it for all the world to hear," he replied peevishly.

"Blimey, it's almost eight!" Ron cried suddenly, realizing the time. "I've got to go!"

Harry stared at him blankly. "Go? Go where?"

"To _detention_. With Snape that greasy git… Oh, that's right, you were somewhere off in La La Land when I told you," he said, giving Harry a playful, but accusational glare.

Harry had the decency to flush slightly. "Oh, well, then see you in the morning," he said clumsily.

Ron rolled his eyes and lifted a hand in farewell. "See you."

"Bye Ron!" Ginny called, and he grunted before disappearing out the portrait hole.

* * *

The corridors were completely deserted as he made his way to the dungeons to serve the first detention with Snape. What a terrific git he was. Malfoy too. Malfoy _especially_. Bloody pansy, waiting until he had gone to the Hospital Wing so he could pin the fight on him. He shivered as the first icy draft from the dungeons swept over him. Bloody _git_. He'd forgotten his cloak; he was bound to be frozen into a Ron-cicle before the detention was half through. The dungeons were brutal in winter. Ron assumed the only way the Slytherins even survived was because their blood was already frozen over, along with their ruddy hearts, and it didn't make any difference how cold it got.

Sighing heavily, Ron rapped on the door of the Potions classroom.

Seconds later, the door swung open and Snape glowered down at him. "Mister Weasley. Right on time," he said sourly.

Ron's temper flared and he thought bitterly, _The git wanted me to be late, just so he could take off more points! _"Yes, sir," he grit.

"Come with me."

Ron followed after him, imagining all of the possible ways he could murder him. Beheading, stabbing, poisoning… Snape led him into the back storage cupboard before whirling around and narrowing his eyes. Ron couldn't stop a flinch. Damned mad old—

"You will be scouring these flasks. They must be scrubbed inside and out in _both_ of these solutions before being rinsed in this water. Do it correctly the _first_ time, Mister Weasley, won't you?"

Ron gawked at the enormous cauldron at the back of the cupboard. It stretched from shelf to shelf and there were flasks piled to overflowing within it. "Tonight?" he said incredulously.

Snape's lip curled. "Yes. Tonight."

Ron stared at the cauldron in dismay as Snape swept past him. This would take him all bloody night!

He sighed heavily and sat down on the small stool provided and set to work.

Scrubbing the flasks proved to be as tedious as he had initially thought. It was bloody freezing down here, and dipping his hands in the various solutions constantly left them frozen to the point of barely operating. The second fluid was particularly nasty because after the first two or three times, his hands had begun burning viciously with every submersion, and they were now red and raw. Unfortunately, his lack of sleep had also caught up with him and he was working slower than ever, only three hours into the detention and having hardly even made a _dent_ in the pile of flasks. His head began dipping down, his hands slowly going limp and just before plunging headfirst into the first solution, he jerked back up, muttering furiously under his breath and trying to force his eyes as wide open as possible. Four-poster…soft…His eyes dropped shut and his body began sagging once again, but before the solutions could be made a concern, the flask currently clutched in his left hand slipped from his grip and shattered on the floor. Ron immediately jerked, upsetting the stool and he cried out, barely managing his feet before the stool toppled backwards, and in the process of scrambling around, his gangly limbs flailing, one foot hit the center bucket and it was heaved over, sloshing the red-violet solution across the stone floor. Ron leaned against the shelving behind him as the liquid lapped against the soles of his shoes, cursing furiously, even as his weary eyes began trying to force their way shut again. He was just beginning to gain his balance back when the door slammed open and Snape appeared, looking quite irritated.

"Mister Weasley! What have you done? Can't I even leave you a simple task and expect it to be done without a disaster of epic proportions occurring?" he demanded.

A dull burn started in Ron's chest at the comment, but he couldn't summon up the energy to become properly angry, let alone explain himself. "Accident…" he slurred wearily.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him furiously. "Go and get some sleep, Mister Weasley, I will not tolerate this for your further detentions, and there will be an extra added on for your foolishness tonight!" he hissed silkily.

Ron barely comprehended the last part of the potions master's reprimand, but he understood well enough that he was free to go and he quickly stumbled past Snape, before he could change his mind. As he slipped out of the classroom, he could hear Snape muttering furiously to himself about stupid children.

Ron stumbled a number of times as he made his way back up to the Gryffindor commons. He could barely see straight now, he was so exhausted. It was amazing what two nights without sleep could do to you…

Harry called out a surprised greeting as he stumbled into the common room, but Ron's mind was on a singular track for his four-poster bed and he didn't even bother to reply, dragging himself up the doom room stairs and collapsing onto his bed, still fully dressed. He was gone just a moment later, sleep overtaking him swiftly.

* * *

Woot. Story-ness.


End file.
